


A Quiet Life

by armablakken



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armablakken/pseuds/armablakken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Max stopped talking, he finally hoped that his silent cries for help would be heard. He hoped that there would be at least one person out there who cared enough to realise that something had change. However, this was not the case. Instead, ridicule ensued, until one of his greatest tormentors decided that there must be something more to his silence and decided to be the one to finally listen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sounds that Silence Makes

    He was alone again today, as he is often. There wasn’t a person who would stay around him long enough for them to become more than acquaintances. Sure, he had those - the people he would occasionally talk to, the people who would grant him more than total ignorance. However, these people still didn’t really respond with anything more than a measured indifference which they used to so avoid any confrontation with others. It wasn’t easy being the outcast. Everyone was scared of his silence. They all thought he was looking down on them because he chose not to speak to them. However, the truth was something far from this. The thought that he wasn’t choosing to be silent had never crossed their minds. The idea of a person who does not have the ability to talk is one that has yet to cross the minds of those he goes to school with. And so, he spends his days in solitude, despite his longing to make friends.

       Max stood up as he heard the bell signal the end of the lunch break. He started to walk back to his classroom for his afternoon classes. He was stopped in his tracks as he ran into Cal – the one person he never wants to run into.

       “Hey there Maxie, how you feeling?” he asked mockingly. Max didn’t reply, he merely stood there and signed that he was in fact, fine and that he was appreciative of Cal’s concern. He also sighed internally at the thought of what Cal’s concern consisted of - or more appropriately, what it didn’t consist of; this being actual, genuine concern.

       While many would disagree with him, he has never thought that Cal was a bad person; he was merely desperate for attention and motivated by this and some ignorance, he had never thought there was malice in his actions. Or at least that’s what he has always hoped. It was in this respect that Max could relate to him. He too was starved of the attention of the people around him – though the reasons for the two boys were complete opposites. Cal was avoided as he was too loud and annoying; whereas Max was avoided because people thought it strange he made no noise at all – again, something he believed (and hoped) was motivated by ignorance rather than a genuine desire to cause pain and harm.

       “Don’t do this again”, Cal smirked, “You can’t just stand there and not say a word when someone has taken the time to come and speak to you, you should, you know, say something back”. Once again Max made no reply. He was trying desperately to communicate to Cal that he was appreciative of the fact that he was talking to him, it’s just that it was difficult trying to make him understand, especially when all he could do was use sign language and even more so when he knew that there wasn’t anyone within the school he could either. This was something he had long hoped would be addressed, but with - as the school said, ‘no parental initiative’ - the school had politely told him that it would be impossible for them to provide the assistance he had requested. They had claimed that as a school with already minimal resources, there was nothing they could do. Or, as he read it, they just could not be arsed to help.

       “Why are you waving your hands about like a retard?” Cal spat. Max ceased quietened his thoughts and looked down. He hated this. He hated it when Cal acted this way. He would never understand what he was trying to tell him. It hurt to be called such a thing by someone, especially when he believed that that someone was genuinely trying to harm him - or at least his naivety allowed him to believe that.

       Cal waved to him as he walked away laughing, and yelled “I’ll see you later Maxie”, over his shoulder. This made Max smile. There was something about the way Cal said ‘Maxie’ that carried with it a note of promise. He felt as though it carried the thought that if Cal were to just understand him (or at least make the effort to) they would be able to be friends. It made him feel that even though he would probably behave in the same manner as he has done previously – both today and on other occasions – at least he was supplying him with the human attention he has been craving. Never did the thought cross his mind that it was purely his desperation for human contact that was responsible for these thoughts entering his mind.

       As Cal walked away, he asked himself the same question he had asked himself on a number of occasions: ‘why won’t Max talk?’ He can’t explain it himself, but within him there burns the desire to be able to hear Max’s voice – even though he doesn’t know whether or not it’s possible. He wants to hear his voice. Another repeated sentiment that makes its way into his head. He can never understand what Max is trying to say when he waves his hands and arms about. He knows that he is trying to communicate, but he just doesn’t understand, and this ignorance he feels makes him feel stupid and angry. An anger which forces itself from him and directs itself at Max. On a number of occasions he has though that if he doesn’t make the effort to understand Max, then maybe out of frustration or, or perhaps anger, he would talk to him and all would be solved. No matter how little he says, or if he does in fact even speak, Max has never once said a word to him. He doesn’t know why, but it saddens him to think of that.

       Once Cal walked into the classroom, he saw Max sitting in his seat, which was located in front of his own. Cal could see everything Max did from his seat, and for some reason he’s never able to look away. He has never once understood why whenever he sees him diligently writing down the notes that he feels a small constriction in his chest. It is a feeling that both excites and scares him. He wants dearly to understand this feeling yet every time he tries to, he is met with a wall.

       After slaving away throughout the afternoon’s classes, Cal follows Max out of the school. Today was the day he would find out the reason why Max doesn’t talk. He had promised this to himself this morning as he walked away from Max. He had to know the reason, as the not knowing was eating him alive. He didn’t care how he would manage it, he just knew it needed to be done.

       Max walked out of school and headed towards the bus stop out the front of his school which served as the collective stop for the few schools in the immediate area. Max’s bus was the eighth to come. It wasn’t as though Cal was counting as each bus went passed or anything, it was just that his intuition was in fine touch. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

       Once Max boarded his bus, Cal followed him on and sat well behind him. Max didn’t notice a thing because his iPod was in and all he could hear was whatever music he was listening to and he was staring out the winder taking no notice of the other people on this bus. They too took no notice of him. Well, all except one of course. After riding the bus for twenty-seven minutes and thirty-one seconds – again, it wasn’t as though he was timing how long it took on his phone, but rather that like before, his intuition was on fire – he alighted from the bus. He was surprised. He had always suspected that Max lived in the high-end of town, but was shocked when he looked around. He saw run down houses and apartment blocks degrading the streets he walked along.

       Max walked on for a further ten minutes and then turned a corner and walked towards a public park. It wasn’t the kind that you would see in movies where everything is groomed and well presented, but rather the ones you would only hear about. Where everything was covered in graffiti and litter was strewn across the place. He couldn’t understand why Max had come here. Max walked over to the run-down graffiti cover play equipment that was located in the centre of the park. Cal hid behind the bushes and watched as Max walked towards and got on the swing. He started swinging with a gentle relaxed rhythm that was building in speed that just continued building. ‘What is he doing?’ Cal wondered. After spending half an hour on the swing, he got off and started to walk again. He continued heading across the park. Cal could see some old apartment blocks which were situated on the far edge of the park. ‘He couldn’t be going there’, he thought as he looked closer at them. They were overgrown and decrepit. They looked neither welcoming nor homey but rather carried an overall sense of menace. They looked as though they could eat a person and spit out his skeleton. But still Max continued walking towards them.

       Cal waited behind a tree at the edge of the park as he watched Max. He made his way towards the closest apartment block and headed inside of it. For the umpteenth time that day he found himself completely shocked. Max lived in this house – if it can be truly called so. He couldn’t believe it. Yet he had no choice but to believe as he saw with his own eyes Max entering the apartment block. The day was becoming too much for him.

************

       As Max arrived home he was greeted with his mother’s cruel smile once again. His father had left when he was young to run away with some younger woman and abandoned him with his mother. She blamed him for his father leaving her. She thought it was because he was ashamed to have a son who couldn’t speak.

       “Our little Maxie is home. My day is now complete”, she said through a smirk. “I was wondering when you were going to get home. Aren’t you going to say hello to your precious mummy who has been waiting so long for her little boy to come home.”

       Max looked at her with fear in his eyes. He knew what was coming. It was the same thing that always happened when his mother didn’t get a response out of him.

       She pulled him towards her by his ears and shoved her face close to his and threatened through gritted teeth, “You know what will happen if you don’t”. When he didn’t respond she began to beat him. She hit him over the head, on the stomach, on the back, everywhere and with whatever was close at hand. He was lucky today; just yesterday she had been sweeping, whereas today she was only cleaning the dishes. And so, she only had a wet towel. Yet she used it with an efficiency that betrayed her intentions. She was definitely aiming to inflict pain on him. Max has never been able to tell her the truth, about why he doesn’t talk. He has yet to tell anybody, but he has always longed for there to be at least one person who he can trust enough to reveal it to. If only there was such a person.

**  
**


	2. Can I Trust You?

    ‘There must be some reason as to why he doesn't speak’, Cal wondered, ‘I might not know what that reason is, but I’m sure there’s something there.’ Looking back, there hasn't been a time where he could remember hearing him speak. Throughout the entirety of the time that Cal has known him, he isn't able to recall a time when he could remember hearing Max talk. ‘Why haven’t I noticed this before? Why am I just starting to notice it now? And what has what I saw yesterday got to do with it, I mean his family can’t be too well off. Maybe they’re in debt and have to live in squalor and maybe there’s people threatening him to keep quiet and he’s taking it way too serious. I could see him doing that.’

       “Cal, hurry up or you’ll be late,” his mother called from the kitchen. He looked over at the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table. His eyes widened when he saw the time; 7:56. “Holy shit”, he scrambled around trying to get himself ready in time to make it the bus stop before he would be left behind. He knew he had around ten minutes, so he needed to hurry.

       “Don’t bother rushing, I’ll take you today,” his mother yelled out, “Just take your time.”

       “Okay”, he yelled back in agreement. He slowed his pace and after he was dressed he wandered casually out into the kitchen.

       “Thanks mum,” he said as he walked towards the table where breakfast was laid out and waiting for him.

       “No problem,” she smiled. “Can you help with something when you get home?”

       “What?”

       “I’ll tell you when you get home.”

       “Tell me now.”

       “No,” she said with finality.

       “Okay then, tell me later,” he said. Just as he was about to ask his mother to hurry up and take him to school he spied someone out through his front window walking past his house. “Don’t worry about that lift, I’ll walk,” he yelled as he ran out the front door.

       “What’s his problem?” she asked no one in particular as she shrugged her shoulders and went back to what she was doing before she was interrupted by his shout.

       Cal ran to catch up to him. “Are you headed to school?” he asked him once he had caught up. Max nodded and continued walking, as though he didn't see him. Cal sighed, ‘I guess he can’t forgive me yet.’ He fell back behind him and let Max walk ahead. This way he could be close to him but not too close to make him uncomfortable.

       Max walked ahead hoping to lose him, but he could hear Cal match his pace with his own so that he wouldn't fall behind. Even so, he kept his distance and didn't try and talk to him. It made him happy that he could at least appreciate his feelings. He didn't want people to come close to him. His trust for other people dissipated gradually as he spent more and more time in the same house as his mother. Being treated with abuse from the person who is supposed to love you the most would cause anyone to lose their trust for other people.

       Once they had reached the bus stop, Cal walked over to Max and stood beside him. There were no words spoken by either of them, they just stood there. Max couldn't understand what he wanted. Did he want to take him unawares? Was he trying to get him to trust him? He didn't know, but there was a feeling that rose within his chest as Cal stood there. Again it was something that he couldn't quite describe, mainly due to the lack of understanding of what was going on, and what he was feeling. He put those feelings to the back of his mind as the bus arrived. He, along with every other person around him scrambled towards the bus in a frenzy of pushing and pulling. Max could feel himself losing his footing on a number of occasions, but each time he did, Cal would be there to steady him and allow him to regain his footing. Once they were on – and due to the fact that Max was knocked over constantly – they were forced to stand. Cal led him to the second door where they could sit on the stairs there. Cal motioned for him to sit, and he did. Once he was seated Cal stood there beside with his hand on his shoulder, standing in front of him. Every time the bus turned and the other people without seats were flung around due to the inertia created, Cal would stand between him and whoever it was and protect him from being wiped out. As he did this, he could feel something within him crack. Nothing huge, but he could feel that something had chipped the surface of what was hidden within him. He felt that he may be able to trust him. But he couldn't let himself go this early. It happened once before and it ended painfully for him, so he wasn't rushing again. He would remain guarded as Cal had as yet done nothing overly major in terms of gaining his trust, to the contrary, he had done many things which would cause him pause. However, he could feel it inside him. Maybe there was something more to Cal than what the obviously fake persona he played put out.

       Once they had reached school, he headed to class, still with Cal following three steps behind him. He was beginning to get frustrated. He turned to him and motioned harshly with his hands for him to go.

       Cal stood there in both shock and wonder as he saw Max turn around and face him. He shook his hands viciously as he tried to communicate with him.

       “I don’t know sign language”, Cal told him. He made the same hand motions again. And again Cal had no idea what he was trying to get across. After a while he gave up and began to walk quickly away from him. Cal, seeing him leave, walked faster in order to catch up to him.

Max felt a hand on his shoulder as he ran into the toilets. He turned around, and sure enough, there was Cal standing behind him. He walked inside the restrooms and locked himself inside a cubicle.

       “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but I’m not trying to hurt you. I know I've haven’t been the nicest person to you in the past, but I want you to know that I’m not going to be that person anymore. I’m no longer that Cal Thompson. I’m different. I’ve changed,” Max heard Cal explain. His voice sounded sincere, but he couldn’t be sure, he had been tricked too many times before, and he didn’t want it to happen again. He couldn’t stand the pain.

       “I know you probably don’t trust me, but I want you to know that I mean every word. I won’t hurt you. I can’t. You can choose to believe me or you can ignore me, it’s up to you. But please know, I’m being sincere when I tell you I won’t hurt you.”

       Max couldn’t understand what prompted the change in Cal. He who was once one of the people who openly scorned and bullied him for choosing not to speak, had suddenly turned into someone who wanted to help him. He didn’t understand what made him change. Yet he felt a small flame of happiness burning inside at Cal’s revelation. He had always known that Cal wasn’t all that he seemed. Now it looked as though he was genuinely right about that.

       “I’ll go now”, Cal sighed, “I hope you realise the truth in what I said.”

       As Max heard him leave, he released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. A new thought started racing through his head. It wasn’t something like ‘why would I trust you?’ but ‘can I trust you?’

       Max knew now that there was definitely something Cal was hiding, there was a kindness within him he did not want to share with anyone. There was something within him that was not only good, but something that he had at least chosen to share with him. However, there was still a small voice inside him which was warning him to be wary. Warning him that what over the course of his life had allowed the luxury of even thinking of being able to trust someone. A voice that no matter how much he willed it to silence, wouldn't do so. A voice which Max has heard for most his life, a voice which has been the major motivation of his actions.

       He knew that he should heed its warning in this situation because as this inner voice did remind him, there had been many an occasion where Cal had not exactly behaved in a manner which would prove to Max that he was worthy of any level of trust in him - but there was something about him which Max was drawn to. Something he knew he couldn’t explain; something he knew wasn’t logical. Something he shouldn’t believe. He could not help but feel as though Cal was finally accepting him and that things would be different for them. He felt that finally, finally, it was happening. Finally Cal would stop being as he was and allow him into his life.

       But still, he couldn’t fully silence that nagging voice in his head. He couldn’t fully give into these new feelings he was realising existed, and he knew he couldn’t acknowledge them. But still he hoped that as he walked away from where they had conversed, Cal would finally listen and heed what he had told him. That he would at least attempt to understand him, and maybe, though he wasn’t exactly one hundred percent confident with it, he hoped that maybe Cal would be able to earn his trust. Because he truly wanted a friend.


	3. Trust is Something You Work For

All his life, people have constantly asked him the same question: “Why don’t you talk?” And every single time someone has asked him this, he’s answered with the exact same thing; silence. Yet still some people don’t understand that rather than him not being able to talk, it’s more a matter of he doesn’t want to talk. He doesn’t trust anyone. There is nothing he wants more than a person with whom he can talk, it’s just he’s too scared to find that person. Too many times in the past had he been let down for him to be able to trust someone again. But still he held onto that small hope that maybe someone would come along and he would finally be able to open up to them. And he was beginning to think that maybe that person was starting to get a clue. He dropped his head to the desk he was sitting at in the quiet classroom. The students around him were scrambling to get the notes down that the teacher was writing.

 All but one.

 Cal too was sitting in his seat at his desk, yet he wasn’t in a scramble to copy what the teacher was writing. He wasn’t particularly interested. He was far more interested in the boy sitting in front of him. He sat with his head resting in his arms on top of the desk. He looked as though he was thinking of something that was weighing heavily on him. Cal too was thinking. All he wanted was to find a way to make Max trust him. However, any ideas he thought of were quick to escape his mind. He couldn’t see how any of them would work.

 Soon, the bell rang out and the students sighed in relief knowing that the school day was finally over and they wouldn’t have to write as though their lives depended on it. Max walked out of the classroom and headed towards the exit. Cal ran up to catch him.

 “Max”, he began nervously, “I need to ask you something”. Max motioned for him to continue.

 “What can I do to make you trust me?” he asked with desperation evident in his voice, “All I want is for you to trust me. I don’t know why, but it’s all I think about now.”

 Max stood in silence, a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest. ‘Why was he so desperate to earn my trust?’ he wondered, ‘But it makes me happy to know that at least one person wants to know about me’.

 “What can I do?’ Cal asked again. Max smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad and pen. Once he had finished writing on the notepad he turned it around and held it up so Cal could read it.

 Trust is something you work for. You’re the one who has to answer the question, not me. You’re the one who has to work out how you can get me to trust you

 Cal smiled. ‘We communicated’, he said to himself. He had finally been able to break through one barrier. They had finally communicated with one another.

 Max turned and left. He walked out and left the school grounds. He sat at the bus stop and waited.

 Cal headed out to bus stop as well and sat next to Max. Max turned to him and smiled. Cal felt his heart skip a beat. He had never seen anything so breathtaking before. He had never expected Max’s smile to be so potent, yet it left him dazed and stupefied.

 Max pulled his notebook and pen out of his pocket again and started writing. He showed it to Cal who read it aloud to himself.

 “Thank you.”

 Cal smiled. “Why are you thanking me?” he asked.

 “Because I want to,” Max replied using his notebook. He smiled again. ‘Finally someone who is willing to take the time to listen to me’, he thought to himself in joy.

 “But why do you want to thank me?” Cal asked again.

 Because you’re willing to try.

 Cal looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean I’m willing to try?”

 No one else has even bothered to try and talk to me. Even though you weren’t the nicest person to start with, you’ve definitely changed. Thank you.

 Cal smiled at him. “I’m sorry about how I was before, but I can assure you I’m not like that anymore. I want you to be able to trust me.”

 Max paused. ‘Can I trust him? Sure he may be nice now, but who’s to say he won’t end up changing. I don’t want to be hurt again’, he cautioned in his mind, ‘There’s nothing to stop him turning out like he did. He said the same things he did. That he wanted me to trust him, that he had changed, yet he still hurt me.’

 “What are you thinking about?” Cal asked as he started to worry. He had been sitting there thinking for too long.

 “You,” he wrote.

 As Cal was about to ask why he was thinking of him, their bus arrived. He walked towards the doors of the bus as they opened. He got on before Max, who gave him a curious look as he boarded. Cal sat down and then grabbed Max arm as he was walking passed him and pulled him down so he sat in the seat next to him.

 “Why are you catching this bus?” he wrote with his brow shaped in confusion.

 “I’ve always caught this bus”, Cal answered.

 “How come I’ve never seen you before?”

 “The same could be said for you. I didn’t know you caught this bus either until I saw you yesterday”

 They sat and talked – well, Cal talked and Max listened – until their bus arrived at their stop. They walked together in silence. Not an awkward silence, but one of comfort and almost trust. Max could feel it; he would be able to trust him. He couldn’t explain it; he just had the feeling that he could. There was something about the way Cal was trying and trying to make him trust him that gradually wore down his barriers. He could feel it; this was the moment. This was the moment that finally he had found someone who would be willing to listen to him. Someone who would finally calmly accept him. While he never expected that person to be Cal, he was glad at least that he had found the person all the same. Finally he would be able to open up to someone. The nagging was still there, though it had chained its tune from ‘you can’t trust him, he’ll hurt you’ to ‘if you trust him how do you know he won’t hurt hurt?’ Even his inner, harder self was beginning to open up to the idea of Cal as even it was entertaining the thought of trusting him. He didn’t want to question anymore, he just wanted to see for himself what was to happen and if he was hurt by trusting him then at least he can say that he tried and wouldn’t at least have to live the fact that he there was the possibility that he could have known someone and someone could have known him. He would trust him. He would.

 “I’ll trust you”, he said quietly.

 Cal couldn’t believe his ears. Had he just heard him speak? How could his voice sound so pure and wonderful?

 “Am I hearing things?” he asked.

 “No,” Max answered quietly.

 “You can talk?”

 “Yes.”

 “Why don’t you talk?”

 “Because.”

 “Because, why?”

 “Because.”

 “Why?”

 Max smiled, wider than he had ever smiled in his life. He laughed. Cal was amazed at the sound. It caressed his ears like music. It made him smile without being aware the he was smiling.

 “So I guess I worked hard enough then?” he asked.

 “Yes,” Max answered, “You did.”

 

 


	4. Memories That Haunt My Sleep

_“Max, can you hear me Max?” a voice shouted to him. He wanted nothing more than to answer, yet he couldn’t find his voice. It was if his body was resisting the urge to answer the voice._

_“Max, where are you?” he heard it shout again, that same voice. He could feel himself tense. He knew who it was. He recognised the voice. It was him, the one who betrayed him. The one who said that he would be there for him, that he wouldn’t betray him, the one who even said he loved him; yet he still betrayed him. The realisation of what he did still hurts him._

_“Max, please, you don’t have to hide”, he shouted again. There was no way that he was coming out from where he was. Not after he’d been chased here. He ran. He heard him shout out, “Wait for me Maxie!” But he ignored it and continued running. He ran and ran. He could hear his footsteps close in on him. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It brought him to an abrupt halt. “There’s no need to run anymore Maxie, I’ve got you now.”_

_He screamed._

He awoke from his nightmare. His body was covered in a layer of cold sweat. He shook from the fear the nightmare instilled in him. It was his darkest memory of the person who was once the brightest in his life.

“Maxie, are you alright”, he heard his mother say. The concern in her voice an obvious attempt, without a shred of true, genuine care for him or his well-being - it didn’t fool him. He looked at her with shrouding his eyes and tears caused his vision to cloud.

‘Why does she do this to me?’ he wondered. Throughout his life, this was the question that hung over him and stalked behind him, like a delinquent shadow.

“Don’t look at me like that!” she yelled as she crossed the distance between his bed and the door to his room in a few long strides. “I’m your mother.”

‘Some mother you are’, he sneered in his mind. How long had she been saying that? How long had she been saying the very same thing in order to convince him - and probably herself - that there was something genuine behind  
it? Despite the fact that the truth was acknowledged by them both. His mother treated him as she would an insect; with calm indifference until the moment she decided to strike.

“What did I tell you about looking at me like that?!” she yelled again striking him across the face. He reached his hand up to his cheek. He could feel the pain swelling throughout his body.

“My poor little Maxie”, she cooed, with a smile that reached her eyes. It sent shivers down his spine. “Were you thinking about Matthew again?”

Max froze. The mention of his name sent his tears spilling over. There were too many memories there and scars that were far from healed. The memories of him were so beautiful, yet they were so horrible at the same time. If only he had realised the truth sooner, who knows what would have happened? Maybe he would be a different person, the person who he truly hoped that he would be, but was instead reduced to what he is now.

His mother cackle was interrupted by a knocking at the door. ‘Who could it be?’ he thought as she walked out of his room and headed towards the door.

“Hi, I’m looking for Max”, he heard a familiar voice say. A voice that filled his heart with happiness; it was Cal.

“Maxie”, his mother called out to him in her ‘when other people are around’ voice that chilled him to his core. “There’s someone at the door for you.”

He ran out of his bedroom and dashed out the door dragging Cal with him. He couldn’t let Cal stay near her. She would hurt him, or at least try to. But considering how evil she was, he had no doubts she would be able to hurt Cal. It was something that Max knew he couldn’t allow. Not after he had only just been able to open up to him.

“Max is there something wrong?” he asked, concern filling his voice. “You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine”, he answered. “You don’t have to worry. Just don’t go near my mother.”

“Why?” Cal asked.

“Just trust me, please. Don’t go near her”, desperation filled his voice as he pleaded with him.

“Alright”, Cal acquiesced, “I won’t go near her.”

Max smiled. He looked down and realised that he still had Cal’s hand in his. He quickly pulled his hand away and turned his head. Cal smiled as he looked at him. He noticed the slightest hints of red colouring his cheeks. Cal reached over and grabbed his hand again. He wrapped it securely to his. Max smiled.

“I should have changed earlier”, Cal sighed. Why had he wasted so much time through his cruelty? By now being kind to him, he was had acquired what he had so desperately sought; Max’s attention.

“Why?” Max asked.

“Because I could have done this earlier”, he said as he held up their interlocked hands. He smiled, “Who would have thought I would enjoy this so much?”

Max blushed, “You’re not the only one who enjoys it”, he said quietly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“What?” Cal asked him jokingly. “I didn’t hear that. Can you say it again?”

“I said, you’re not the only one who enjoys it”, Max said a little louder, his embarrassment causing him to blush furiously.

Cal laughed. Max smiled, he loved the sound. It made him feel safe. It reassured him. It made him feel as though there was still hope for him left in the world. All he would have to do is stay with Cal, and then he would be fine. Nothing would be able to hurt him.

“What are you thinking about?” Cal asked as they kept walking, hand in hand.

“You”, Max answered.

“Is that all you think about?” he asked jokingly, not expecting an answer; or at least not the answer he got.

“Yes it is. Will you get out of my mind?” he jokingly asked back.

“Are you serious?” Cal asked happily.

“Yes, why are you so happy about it?” he asked. He looked like a child innocently smiling.

“Because it just makes me happy”, he smiled, dodging the question.He wasn’t ready to admit his feelings yet. They had sprung up on him so quickly he still hadn’t been able to grow accustomed to them. They were so strong. He wanted to hold Max, he wanted to protect him, and he wanted to love him.

“It makes me happy as well”, Max smiled.

“Why?” Cal asked. ‘Why would thinking of me make you that happy?’ he wondered.

“Because at least when I think of you, it makes me happy. If I think of anything else, I’ll just be sad.”

Cal couldn’t believe his ears. ‘What have you lived through that makes you think like that?’ his mind despaired. ‘What did you do to deserve that? You’re far too kind to deserve anything horrible happening to you.’

“Thank you for coming into my life”, Max smiled. “You make me happy.” 

Cal felt something rise within him. He stared at Max face. His eyes were drawn to his lips. The feeling grew stronger. He felt himself reach his hands out as they cupped his face. He stared into his eyes as he brought him gently closer to him. He saw Max’s eyes close as he felt their lips come into contact. He could feel warmth the likes of which he had never felt spread to every corner of his body. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling and basked in the warmth he felt. 

They separated. Max looked at him. His eyes were unreadable. He reached one of his hands up to his lips, it shook all the way. He ran his finger over his lips. He broke out into a smile. He reached his hands towards Cal’s face.

“Do it again”, he dared as he looked deep into his eyes.

And so he did.


End file.
